Waiting
by Betsy
Summary: _Starts out_ Mimato. Rated PG13 for character death. Have I spoiled the plot enough yet?


Waiting  


  
Sure, Matt. I understand.  
I didn't, though. It was our first date since I moved back from America. It _was_ our first date. But he had to practice with his band. We'd planned it for months. Why did he have to cancel? And why did he have to cancel so late that it was almost like being stood up? Why?  
It was always like this. We would come close, and Matt, inexplicably, would do something to tear us apart. It started six years ago, when we were in the Digiworld. He had defended me, well my position rather, when I had protested against fighting and wanted to stay and guard our friends' memorials, to be a healer of wounds instead of causing them. We had lost that fight. But I thanked him. And I had thought that he understood.  
But that same day he left. And when he came back he wasn't Matt. He had been taken over by something evil. He fought, even though he was against fighting. And I stared at the flowers. I wanted to see something beautiful, and Matt's face had been twisted by hatred.  
When Kari held up her crest of Light, a shower of light had washed down. It had driven out the darkness in Matt's soul. Enough of it, at least, that he stopped fighting. But not all of it. Matt still had a dark poison in his heart, and he left. I tried to follow. I wanted to help heal him. But I knew that if I said that he would never let me come. So I instead said that I wanted to stay where I was, to stop fighting. Which had truth in it, though only half.  
But Joe had insisted on staying with me. And I could hardly be caught in my lie, ne? So I stayed instead of went. And no one to this day knows what really happened.  
Joe. Joe of Reliability. Yes, he can be relied on. And not just to wimp out, as some people jokingly mock. No, he can be relied on to take the tough jobs. Such as just being there. He's always been there, a shoulder to lean on, whenever something goes wrong.  
Matt couldn't make it when I moved to America, three years ago. No one could, except Joe. But it rankled the most that _he_ couldn't say goodbye. We had had our last date just two days before. And he had promised to come. But he couldn't. And my flight was filled with tears instead of anticipation.  
  
So, Mimi, I heard the news. Welcome back. The last was said a bit ironically. I'm sorry. I know that probably only made it worse. That was pretty dirty of him, to decide his band was more important than his girlfriend. And to dump you on such short notice that you couldn't make other plans.  
Well, he does have a big concert coming up. As usual, I found myself defending Matt to Joe, despite the fact that Joe was voicing my previous thoughts.  
Still, it's not like your date was the only time he could practice. He should have tried to schedule it a different time.  
Maybe this was the only time the other band members could make it.  
So he finds their girlfriends more important than you?  
I wouldn't put it that way, but still, Joe did have a point. Matt could be so outspoken about some things, so why wasn't he defending me more vocally?  
  
We finally had a date two days later. On the date, Matt seemed a bit distant, though. Preoccupied. I thought he was just worrying about his band's upcoming concert. But during the movie, I saw another girl come over. Her name was Jun.  
Matt. What are you doing with another girl?  
Jun, I thought I made it clear to you my opinion. Leave me alone.  
The other girl... Jun... ran off crying. What was that about, Matt? What were you doing with her? Though couched as questions, these were accusations. And Matt could tell.  
Nothing, Mimi. She blackmailed me into a date and thought it made me her boyfriend.  
Did it? There was an iron edge to my polite tone. He had been distant from me lately... Was he two-timing it? He hadn't directly said he wasn't her boyfriend...  
No. I at no point in my life have gone voluntarily on a date with Jun Motimiya. And I never will.  
I couldn't interpret the masked anger in his voice. It may have been anger at Jun. It may have been anger at me for even doubting him. On the other hand, it may have been anger at me for taking him away from her.  
We had another date a week later. Jun showed up at this one as well. It was beginning to look as if she followed Matt around everywhere.  
she called out in a sing-song tone. Matt, I thought you said—  
He cut her off. Jun. Leave. Us. Alone.  
What did you say to her?  
Nothing. I don't even speak to that stalker if I can help it.  
Really? I couldn't tell what he meant. He had never directly denied anything, just changed the subject. Jun was certainly acting very possessive. Her behavior could be explained by Matt's explanation: she was stalking him and was slightly self-delusionary. But it seemed a bit farfetched. Matt two-timing me was another, and much as I hated to admit it, more reasonable explanation.  
  
Back at home I took the ticket Matt had gotten me for his concert out and looked at it. They were sold out, I knew, but he had managed to wangle me a seat in the second row. _Did Jun get a front-row seat? _I thought bitterly. I looked at it again, and my resolve wavered. Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding... Maybe I was handing that bitch exactly what she wanted by doing this...  
My thoughts hardened again and I picked up the ticket. Then I very deliberately ripped it into tiny little pieces. I stalked to the stove and lit a burner, and then I dropped all the pieces into the flames, one by one. I watched the writhing shapes of the paper burning with a fierce, sadistic delight. Almost as if they were Matt and Jun, who deserved this fate for doing this to me.  
A knock on the door. Who is it? I called, almost reflexively.  
Mimi? This is Joe.  
Come in.  
What are you doing? I thought you were on a date with Matt.  
We had a quick dinner, I said, lying. I had stomped out halfway through when Jun showed up. He walked through the hall to the kitchen and I frantically looked for a potholder to clean up the ashes with. I couldn't find one, though. Crap. Joe would see the mess I had made.  
Practicing cooking? he said. If you're still hungry, why don't you just reheat some leftovers?  
There aren't any.  
I'll try and make something, then. I can't cook that well, and I'm nowhere near as good as your boyfriend is, but I think I can make something better than that. he replied, gesturing to the stove and the mass of charred paper on top of it. He walked over to it. Do you know where a potholder or something like that is? This mess is still hot enough that I need one to clean it up.  
No. I was looking for one when you came, actually, but I couldn't find any.  
I guess we'll just have to wait for it to cool off.  
We stood around for a few minutes, talking a little but very pointedly dancing around the issue of Matt. Then suddenly Joe quit this little verbal game.  
I'll just come straight at the whole point. Something's wrong between you and Matt. What?  
Nothing really. I guess our relationship cooled off a bit while I was in America.  
Mimi, as Bearer of Sincerity you're really transparent. Especially when you lie. But if you don't want to talk about it, it's your decision. He looked at the burnt ticket. I don't think burning up concert tickets is necessarily a solution, though.  
After a little while he left.  
  
The day of the concert came. I was beginning to regret my hasty decision to burn my ticket. I watched the city street from my high apartment window and saw Jun hurry out the building door and run to the nearest subway station. Going to the concert, no doubt.  
I switched on the TV and watched reruns of some stupid shows. It wasn't like I had anything better to do. If I hadn't burned my ticket, I would be watching Matt at his concert. Instead I was watching some stupid TV show for three-year-olds.  
After a while I got thirsty and went to the fridge. I poured myself a glass of Sprite. I'd always thought that Coke was too cloyingly sweet. As I walked back to the living room, glass in hand, I heard the TV say loudly:  
NEWS FLASH. There has been an accident. On its way to a concert, the bus for the band lost control and crashed into the apartment building Heighton Veiw Terrace. This building seems to attract trouble, folks. As you know, there have been two terrorist attacks there in the past decade. Many of the people living on the first two floors of Heighton were injured; however there were no deaths among the apartment residents. The band members were not so fortunate. All of the passengers on the bus are now dead.  
I heard a sound of glass shattering and thought that it was in rather bad taste for the network to showcase all the myriad sounds of the accident. Then I noticed the pieces of glass on the floor and the clear liquid that was rapidly spreading. The full impact of the announcer's words hit me. was the name of Matt's band. My subconscious had realized that before my conscious mind did.  
I cleaned up the mess almost mechanically, my mind not really on my work. It was almost like I had been so drained emotionally by that one event that I could no longer feel. I think psychologists call it shock.  
  
  
I looked up from my kneeling at Matt's grave. It was about time for me to leave, anyway. I had already cried all my tears away and was now reduced to dry sobbing.  
  
He was a good friend.  
I looked at the symbol inscribed on his headstone. A winged circle, with two semicircles inside. Anything you say about that will be understatement.  
I know. It almost seems like friendship's left the world now that he's no longer there to guard it. I guess that in a way it has. He had some of the strongest friendships in the world. Not many friends, just the ten of us, but his friendships were so strong and so deep that total, he had more friends than anyone else had or can ever have.  
He had another. Besides the Chosen, I mean.  
A true friend? Or what most people think passes for friendship?  
I suddenly realized. Matt had been telling the absolute truth about his with Jun. And I hadn't believed him. I told Joe about what had happened.  
Jun? He hated her. He'd avoid her like the plauge. I thought it was pretty funny, myself. But now she's done this...  
Done what?  
You don't know the full truth of what happened. Matt was driving. I think that he was so preoccupied about what Jun did to your relationship... His voice trailed off. He didn't need to finish his sentence, though, for me to grasp his meaning.  
Then it was also partly my fault.  
Don't blame yourself, Mimi. It wasn't your fault. It was my fault, if anything, for not trying to help you more. He laughed bitterly. Old Reliable failed there. I trusted myself to be able to be there for you all the time, because I cared about you too much to let you be hurt. I failed.  
Care too much about me...? I echoed. Then it all snapped into place. Joe. I've hurt everyone by doing this, by continuing to go out with Matt even when it was fricking obvious that we weren't in love anymore. My voice's low, sad tone was gradually escalating into a loud, angry yell. A yell full of self-hatred. I hurt me, by putting myself through this whole emotional rollercoaster. I killed Matt, for God's sake. And I hurt you, by making you sit there and watch this doomed relationship, and even try to salvage it, when all the time you loved me. I burst into fresh tears. Funny, that. I thought that I'd cried my eyes out. Joe? Please forgive me?  
Of course. And he took me into his arms and hugged me, offering comfort the only way he could, for my grief had passed beyond words.


End file.
